Hey, girl. It’s me. I know you don’t know me yet, but I know you. I know your clothes don’t really fit, you hate school, and that you feel lonely and awkward most of the time. I know you don’t really like yourself. And I know that you’re spending a lot of time and energy trying to seem more intelligent and important and glamorous than you really are.
But I also know that 15-20 years from now, you’ll be living in Europe all by yourself. And one day as you’re getting ready, you’ll look down and see a pretty box on your vanity and think to yourself how funny it is that you always seem to have French chocolates around. What a random, glamorous thing. How fun.
And then you’ll think of you. You as you are now. Awkward, dissatisfied, and trying so hard to seem impressive. And you’ll realize that after all those years of trying, and finally giving up and surrendering yourself to life and the world, you’ve become the person you always dreamed you’d be.
You’re not perfect— you should probably wash your hair more and eat less sugar, and you still say dumb things when talking to a guy you like— but you feel brave and sure of yourself, and yes, even a little glamorous, most of the time. And it all happened while you were working on other things.
You’ll get there, girl, almost without trying. And I’ll be waiting when you do.
All my love,